Run, Rabbit, Run!
by MegwinWrites
Summary: Neal Caffrey has gone on the run and once again it's up to Peter Burke and the rest of his White Collar team to find him. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Run, Rabbit, Run!**

Neal Caffrey has gone on the run and once again it's up to Peter Burke and the rest of his White Collar team to find him.

This story isn't set at any particular time but takes place after the currently aired episodes. Some elements from the current season have been used but this story has nothing to do with the Nazi Submarine Art storyline and in my story that doesn't even factor in at all (it's as if it never happened).

This is my first ever fanfiction, please be kind! :)**  
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**Disclaimer:** White Collar and it's characters belong to Jeff Eastin.**  
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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1<strong>_

The office of the FBI White Collar division in New York City was in chaos with agents shouting over one another trying to be heard as they went through five year old case files for any relevant information. The only one remaining detached from the mayhem down in the pit was Peter Burke who was in his office reading and rereading reports he'd written to the Director of the White Collar division regarding CC#071888 and anything he might have missed previously.

The reason the White Collar office was in chaos and Peter now doubted someone he had once trusted was because Criminal Consultant number 071888, otherwise known as Neal Caffrey, had disappeared after being let off his tracking anklet for a case.

With no solid lead on where Neal might have run off to, Peter picked up the phone on his desk and dialled the cell phone number for Sara Ellis. Even though Sara and Neal had broken up some months earlier she still maybe knew something that Peter didn't.

"Sara, it's Peter," he said when the phone was answered.

"Oh hi, Peter," Sara shouted over the din of the city noise around her. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

Never one to beat around the bush, Peter dived right in. "Sara, have you seen Neal today?"

Neal was still a touchy subject for Sara and while they'd worked together since the split every situation was an awkward one. "No… I haven't seen him. What's this about, Peter?" Her investigative side was intrigued by the question, Peter could easily just pull up Neal's GPS location if he wanted to know where the supposedly ex-conman was.

"He's off his anklet."

Peter's brusque words caught her off guard. "You don't think…" She didn't even want to consider what he was suggesting.

"I do," he admitted. Peter didn't want to imagine that his good friend would simply run off but Neal had failed to check back in and the GPS tracker watch they'd given him had been shut off.

"Oh no…" Sara sighed and Peter had to strain to hear what she said over the ambient noise they were both suffering through. "Where would he go?"

It was Peter's turn to sigh. "I was hoping you might answer that question for me."

Sara gave a sad laugh but then stopped abruptly when she recalled something she'd inadvertently found in Neal's apartment in a safe hidden behind a painting. "What about that passport he's got?" she asked.

"What passport?"

She was surprised by the question; Neal had basically assured her that Peter knew about it. "The passport he has in the name of Victor Moreau?" she paused. "You didn't know about it, did you?"

Peter was currently trying not to crush the phone in his hand or shout expletives down the line. "How long has he had that forged passport?" he asked through clenched teeth. He couldn't believe that Sara, of all people, would believe Neal when he said that Peter knew about a forged passport. She was after all the one adamant that Neal had stolen and still possessed the missing Raphael painting.

"A number of months," she replied quietly sounding like a scolded school girl.

Not wanting to curse at Sara, Peter thanked her for the information and hung up. How long had Neal been planning to run off and why had he chosen this time to do it? He had been let off his anklet on numerous cases in the last few months and he'd always returned at the end of the day to begrudgingly have it put back on.

Why now?

Drumming his fingers on his desk, Peter considered his next move but he already knew what he had to do and made his way out to the pit. His presence quietened the office as everyone turned to hear his announcement.

"As you all know, Neal Caffrey went on the run over twelve hours ago," Peter began slowly, measuring his words with caution in an attempt to keep all emotion out of his voice. "I have been informed that Caffrey is in possession of a forged passport under the name Victor Moreau. I want an alert put out on that name at all airports and train stations. He will not get out of the country."

As the chorus of shouting voices rose in the pit Special Agent Diana Berrigan appeared at Peter's side. "Any news?" he asked wearily.

Diana shook her head. "Sorry, boss. It appears he didn't even take a change of clothes from his apartment at June's."

Hands on his hips, Peter groaned. When Neal wanted to disappear he did a damn good job at it.

Diana was hesitant to speak again but her curiosity wasn't enough for her to hold her tongue. "Isn't Moreau the name of Caffrey's former girlfriend?"

Peter gave her a stern look but answered anyway. "Yes, it is but I don't think he would have picked that name for himself after what happened. I think it's a coincidence that that's the name on his forged passport."

Seeing what this was doing to Peter, Diana made an excuse of chasing up a new lead to leave him to return to his office. While Peter appreciated the sentiment he didn't want his team thinking they needed to wrap him in cotton wool because it was Neal they were hunting instead of a mug shot or surveillance camera picture of someone in a file.

Back at his desk Peter rubbed his temples trying to lessen the migraine he felt coming on. The same questions kept moving through his mind with no answers for them. Why would Neal suddenly run and why now? None of made any sense.

He was about to go and see what Diana and Special Agent Clinton Jones had when his cell phone started vibrating its way off the far edge of his desk. He considered letting it go to voicemail until he saw the name lit up on his screen.

NEAL.

Peter snatched the phone off his desk before it hit the floor and pressed it to his ear. "Hello?" he said urgently.

"Peter?" Neal's voice came back at him.

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><p>I hope you liked the first chapter of "Run, Rabbit, Run!"<p>

Information pertaining to Neal's criminal consultant number was sourced from .com/series/whitecollar and the interactive FBI Office (in Peter's desk drawer, to be precise).


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

"Peter?" Neal said hesitantly, unsure why he was even calling in the first place. He knew that he could be traced but he owed it to Peter to at least say goodbye.

"Neal," Peter spoke quietly into the phone which surprised him, he had been expecting to have his ear shouted off. "Where are you?"

Neal looked up and down the deserted alley he had secreted himself away in for the moment. The smell off urine was overwhelming but he wasn't planning on staying there long enough for it to become a real problem. "I can't tell you that, Peter."

He heard the heavy sigh down the line but Neal remained silent, not completely sure of what he was going to say to the man that had given him a second and third chance when he probably didn't deserve it.

"Look, Neal, just tell me where you are and I'll come and get you. We can just forget this happened but if you run you know I'll have to come after you and I will find you. Remember, I'm two and o, Neal, the odds aren't in your favour."

Neal knew perfectly well that Peter would be hot on his trail which was why he'd not returned to his apartment after the case had ended the night before. He didn't want to leave a physical trace for Peter to follow and only had the clothes on his back and the cash in his wallet to get him on his way. Not the most ideal situation but this didn't hinder Neal's plans in any way; he'd not had any money when he'd arrived in New York and he'd survived just fine and he'd do so again now. Wherever he ended up.

When Neal still didn't speak, Peter continued trying to get information out of him, anything to find out where he might be. "Did your little friend put you up to this?" he growled. While he'd grown kind of fond of Mozzie in a strange way Neal knew Peter still didn't trust the man he still knew so little about.

"No, Peter, he didn't," Neal sighed. "He doesn't even know."

It was Peter's turn to be surprised. "What have you gotten yourself into, Neal?" he asked. "Oh wait, I bet you can't tell me that either, can you?"

Peter's words made Neal feel even guiltier but he had a reason for what he was doing and he knew that no matter how hard he tried to explain that Peter wouldn't understand.

"Please, Peter, don't try to find me," desperation edged into Neal's voice.

"What? Neal? What's going on?" Peter now shouted into the phone. If someone else didn't know that Neal had called in they did now.

"Peter?" Neal cut into Peter's tirade of questions. "Thank you, for everything."

He ended the call before Peter could reply. Heading to the mouth of the alley and onto Columbus Avenue, Neal shut off his phone and removed the battery and dropping it in a trash can but not before pocketing the sim card.

Neal moved through the busy street, purposely bumping against the people in the Armani and Calvin Kline suits who looked like they could spare a few dollars for someone in need. Conscious of the cameras dotted throughout the city he kept his fedora pulled low over his eyes and his head down. Peter would pick him out instantly on a video in his classic Rat Pack suit and hat but he hoped it would be hours before he got the footage and in that time Neal planned to be long gone.

Finding the score he'd been hoping for on a portly and balding man in a Ralph Lauren tailored suit, Neal pocketed the grand cash and the latest Blackberry phone before hailing a cab. He had always experienced an expedited service when it came to hailing a cab and despite having been in the same clothes for more than twenty-four hours this time was no different.

Sliding into the back of the cab Neal kept his hat on and avoided eye contact with the driver, handing him two green notes with Benjamin Franklin's picture on them. "LaGuardia Airport," he said. "And step on it."

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><p>Thanks everyone that has reviewed so far! Means a lot to me, I was absolutely terrified about posting a story.<p>

I hoped you liked Chapter 2! Stay tuned for Chapter 3 soon.

[By the way, how AWESOME was the mid-season finale?]


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3**_

Diana had come rushing into Peter's office when she heard him shout Neal's name down the phone. She'd been waiting outside to give him the news that there had been a possible sighting of Neal in Hoboken but had noticed he was on his cell phone and had thought he was talking to his wife, Elizabeth, and decided that he needed the solace that only she could provide.

"Is it him?" she hissed but Peter just waved her off.

"Neal," he said into the phone, ignoring Diana as she called for a trace. "Don't hang up. Tell me wh- he hung up."

Peter felt the urge to hurl his cell across his office but refrained, instead dropping it heavily onto the ink blotter. He'd lost his chance at convincing Neal to come in. Now he had to track him down and as a result Neal was going to end up back in jail and no matter what Peter said there would be no keeping him out this time.

Peter had practically forgotten Diana was still in his office and barely heard her say that they were triangulating the last call his cell made. "He'll have ditched it and be long gone," he said rubbing his eyes. He'd tracked Neal Caffrey for three years before he caught him the first time and they'd worked on numerous cases side by side, Peter knew how Neal thought better than anyone else. It was kind of a scary thought.

"Don't worry, boss," Diana said reassuringly. "We're going to find him."

Peter's phone vibrated once again and he practically dived on it, hoping it was Neal calling again. He couldn't help feeling a little deflated when he noticed his wife's name instead. "Hey, Hon."

"Hi, sweetie, you sound terrible is this a bad time?" Elizabeth Burke had heard the weariness in her husband's voice. That tended to happen when you'd been married for more than ten years.

Peter knew El had the right to know about what was happening. He couldn't count the times that she had given him a suggestion on a case and she cared about Neal just as much as he did. "Neal's off anklet and he's disappeared."

"Maybe he's just sleeping in late," El sounded hopeful but she didn't believe her own words. Peter appreciated her sweet nature to only see the best in people all the same. "Do you have any idea where he might have gone?" she asked.

"No, I can't figure it out. Why would he just run off like this?"

"Maybe he had a reason," El suggested.

Peter couldn't help but laugh. "That's what he said."

Elizabeth sighed. "You'll find him, honey."

"Yeah, I know." Peter sounded as though he didn't want to go on the hunt for Neal again but El didn't point that out. "While I've got you here, Hon, could you give me a phone number for Mozzie? Neal told me that Mozzie didn't know about this and I just want to confirm that."

He scribbled down the number on a scrap of paper and thanked his wife. He disconnected the call as Diana finished her own conversation to the agents trying to triangulate where Neal's last call had come from.

"They got his call coming from the Upper West Side, near Central Park," she said, an edge of urgency to her voice. "If we head there now we might just head him off before he leaves the city."

"He'll be out of the area already," Peter sighed. "He liked the Park but there's nothing there that would keep him around for long."

Diana could hear the resignation in his voice and knew what this manhunt was doing to her boss. "We have to try," she said. "We could get lucky and find someone who saw him in the area…"

Peter knew she was right. He stood up from his desk and slipped on his jacket, calling Mozzie was just going to have to wait. "Okay, let's go."

He followed Diana out of his office and through the pit only to be called to by Special Agent Jones from the conference room. "Caffrey just used one of his credit cards to buy a plane ticket to Miami," he shouted.

Running back to the conference room, Peter looked at Jones' computer to see the alert. As he read another alert with Neal's name attached pinged on the screen informing them he'd bought a train ticket to Philadelphia, followed by numerous other alerts saying he was headed to London, California and Toronto among others.

"He's trying to spread out our resources," Peter growled at Neal's ingenuity. "Damn him!"

They could only watch on as more alerts appeared on the screen. "Do you think he would actually go to one of these places?" Jones asked Peter.

Peter paused, looking at each of the new destinations as they popped up on the screen. "No… he'll use cash so that we can't trace him. Trains are too slow so I doubt he'll leave that way but we still need to check it out. Neal would definitely go by plane but where would he go?" He was mostly talking to himself but everyone in the conference room was listening intently.

"Some of these flights leave in under an hour, boss," Diana pointed out hoping to expedite the matter. "If we're going to have a chance at finding him we need to move."

Peter nodded but took another moment before addressing his team. "I need a small group of agents to go and check out Grand Central, just to confirm that Caffrey isn't trying to get out of the city that way." A few junior agents raised their hands and on Peter's say so they left the conference room. "Jones, I want you to take a team and head to JFK, see if you can't find him there while Diana and I go to LaGuardia and see if he's there. Does everyone know what they're doing?"

His question was met with a resounding yes.

"Then let's go catch us a conman."

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><p>Thanks everyone for the lovely reviews and favouriting my story, it gives me inspiration to keep writing! Chapter 4 coming soon!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4**_

The boarding gate line at LaGuardia Airport to Phoenix, Arizona was long and Neal was trying to remain inconspicuous. He was hopeful that booking flights or train rides to various parts of the country and the world would throw Peter and the other FBI agents off his trail long enough that he could get out of the city. Granted he'd maxed out all of his credit cards in the process but that was a small price to pay and he'd soon have more cash than he'd need in the foreseeable future.

He'd had no problem getting through security on his own identification; when he'd been arrested the first time the rewards for stopping him in an airport or train station had been lifted and his name no longer brought up a red flag. He enjoyed hearing "Enjoy your flight, Mr. Caffrey," from the flight hostesses that flirted with him.

The only thing Neal wished was different were the circumstances he was leaving under. He would have liked nothing more than to explain everything to Peter but Peter's life rested on his ignorance as to why Neal had to leave.

Neal returned the large smile the young girl on the boarding gate gave him as he reached the head of the line. In only a few short moments he would be on a plane headed across the country and it would be harder for Peter and the FBI to find him.

That had been the plan, at least.

"Neal!" Peter's shout lifted over the voices of the excited travellers even though he was still over half a football field away.

Neal tried to ignore Peter, knowing he should have bought some other clothes instead of remaining in his expensive suit that gave him away.

"Is he calling for you?" the young flight hostess asked as she read his name off his boarding pass.

He gave her a disarmingly charming smile. "No, he must be looking for another Neal," he laughed. "Small world though."

The smile had done the trick and she accepted his boarding pass. "Have a nice flight, Mr. Caff-"

"FBI! Stop that man!" Peter was still shouting and getting ever closure.

There would have to be another flight to Phoenix.

Neal turned and faced Peter, smiling broadly and raising his hands to shoulder height. "Hi, Peter," he said cheerfully.

Diana and other FBI agents levelled their guns on him but Peter's gun remained in its holster.

"Are those really necessary?" he asked no one in particular, indicating with a small sweep of his hand the four guns pointed at him.

"You tell me, Neal," Peter replied with a shrug. "What are you doing here?"

Neal started edging backwards and to his right toward an emergency exit only fifteen metres away. "Oh you know, just going on a nice little flight to Phoenix. I hear it's nice this time of year."

"Don't move, Caffrey!" Diana shouted as she noticed what he was moving toward.

Neal laughed lightly; it had been worth a shot.

An ever growing crowd had converged on the stand off. It wasn't every day that the FBI came storming into the airport and tried to stop someone just before they boarded a plane. It was almost better than Pay-Per-View.

"We're going to have to take you in, Neal, you know that," Peter said coming slowly forward.

Neal lowered his hands looking defeated. "Yeah, I know." His hands dipped into each of his pockets were he grabbed over seven hundred dollars in five dollar notes.

"Remove your hands from your pockets, Caffrey," Diana warned.

A small smile spread across Neal's lips. "Okay." He threw his hands upwards releasing the money to fall down like rain before diving to his right and heading for the emergency exit.

The falling free money had created the diversion Neal had wanted with everyone privy to his near arrest diving forward to get as much money as they could get their hands on, leaving Peter, Diana and the other three FBI agents trying to shove their way through the crowd on their knees to get to Neal as he ducked through the emergency exit door.

The exit led to a long corridor with doors leading off but none marked as which would lead to leaving the airport. As Neal tried each one and found it locked he became more and more desperate. It would only be a matter of time before Peter came through the door after him and it looked like a dead end.

"This is a fire hazard," he groaned as the fifth door he tried was also locked. Neal decided to cut his losses and headed straight for the last door on the left. While the door opened, it didn't exactly lead to freedom but rather a flight of stairs that lead upwards.

As the emergency exit door crashed open at the end of the corridor and Peter with the other FBI agents in tow spilled through, Neal took his only option and headed for the stairs. He only paused long enough to use the hose from a hydrant to put a hold on the door, it wouldn't stop anyone for very long but it would give him enough time to put some distance between him and his pursuers.

Halfway to the second floor of wherever the stairs led, Neal heard Peter asking an airport employee where they led and if there was another way to where the let out. Apparently there was as Peter's voice trailed away from Diana still ordered the other agents to keep trying to get through the door.

Countless stairs later and four floors up from where he started Neal emerged onto the roof, the sudden sunlight leaving him momentarily blind. He moved around the edge of the building looking for a way down but the next closest building had a six foot gap and ten foot drop between it and the one he currently stood on. There was no way he could go down the stairs, by now Diana and the three FBI agents with her would be on their way up and Peter wouldn't be far away either.

It was as Neal gauged the leap he was about to make when he heard the click of a guns pin being drawn back, causing him to visibly flinch. He had never liked guns.

"Turn around, Neal," Peter said, his voice eerily calm.

Neal did as he was instructed, raising his hands as he slowly turned. Having his hands up seemed to be the reoccurring theme of the day.

"What am I going to do with you?" Peter asked rhetorically.

"Well, you could let me go," Neal suggested anyway.

Peter responded with a sad laugh and lowered his weapon. "Why are you running, Neal? Don't we have a good thing going here?"

Neal lowered his hands. "We do have a good thing, Peter, but this is just something I have to do."

"That's bullshit and you know it, Neal," Peter snapped angrily. "I thought you were better than this."

"You wouldn't understand," Neal told him, saddened that his friend no longer trusted him.

"Try me." Peter threw his hands up in frustration.

Neal racked his hand through his hair. "You're just going to have to trust me on this, Peter."

Peter gave a bark of a laugh, "It's really hard to trust you right now, Neal. You run off after a case and then tell me that you _had_ to do it and that I should trust you? How stupid do you think I am?"

"I don't think you're stupid," Neal said earnestly. "But I can't let you arrest me."

Peter raised his arms to remind Neal they were standing on the roof of an airport. "There's nowhere for you to go unless you're going to do a Superman off the edge of the building."

Considering Peter's words Neal smiled. "Playing Superman sounds like great fun!"

Turning before Peter could react; Neal took off at a fast run toward the edge of the building. He heard Peter shout his name, certain his friend thought he might commit suicide rather than go back to jail, but didn't falter his step and as he reached the edge leaped in a Superman-esk style.

Peter ran after Neal but stopped at the edge as he watched the fleeing conman land on the opposite buildings roof before getting to his feet and running off without a look back.

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><p>Thanks for all the reviews everyone, they mean a lot! I hope you enjoyed chapter 4 as much as I did writing it!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

By popular demand, here's Chapter 5 of "Run, Rabbit, Run!". I'll be waiting for my cookie Mimbillia :) lol_**  
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><p><em><strong>Chapter 5<strong>_

There was a vast difference to the atmosphere in the White Collar office an hour after Neal Caffrey had evaded arrest at LaGuardia airport. Instead of the manic rush that had involved the entire White Collar taskforce to find the conman it had been reduced to a mere twelve agents that now took stock of the situation in the conference room. They were met with the dilemma of continuing to work the case themselves or call on the assistance of the general public through news reports and the US Marshalls. If Peter were to get his way the ones to hunt down Neal would be the eleven people seated at the conference table waiting for him to update them on what had happened at the airport roof and what their next plan of attack was.

Peter began slowly. "At approximately eleven thirty this morning, Neal Caffrey took a flying leap off the top of a four storey building at LaGuardia Airport. Since that time there have been no new reports pertaining to his actual whereabouts but we suspect he is still trying to get out of the city." He paused for a moment, watching his team as they listened intently or quickly scribbled down notes.

"In a discussion I had with Caffrey prior to his escape at the airport, he eluded that his disappearing act was not of his own free will but would not elaborate further. Caffrey could be in trouble which prompted him to act the way he did. We need to go through every aspect of his life from the last few weeks; where he went, who he spoke to, anything that might explain the current situation. Are there any questions?"

The conference room remained silent.

Peter took a steadying breath. "Then let's go find our conman."

Quiet chatter picked up in the room as some agents left to again scour Neal's apartment and Jones divvied up tasks to the remaining few. Diana remained by Peter's side and watched as her boss chewed on his thumb in quiet contemplation.

"What do you need me to do, boss?" she asked him.

Peter looked at Diana as if he was seeing her for the first time. "Come with me," he said after a moment.

She followed him through the adjoining door that led into Peter's office and while he sat down behind his desk and stared at the chair that Neal usually occupied, she remained standing and patiently waiting for a job to do.

"He was headed to Phoenix," Peter began as if he were speaking to himself but then turned to look at Diana. "I want you to find out what he might have waiting for him there and why he's headed there first."

"You think he's still going there?" Diana sounded surprised at Peter's insight.

He nodded, "I do."

When he didn't elaborate further on how he knew this, Diana left Peter staring at the chair opposite his desk to find out what Neal Caffrey was hiding in Phoenix.

Playing the final moments that he'd seen Neal before he'd taken his Superman leap off the roof and the conversation they'd had over in his mind, Peter couldn't think of what he might have said or done to make his friend come with him so they could sort this out together. What had Neal gotten himself into that he thought he had to go on the run instead of going to Peter so he could help him? Peter knew only one person that might be able to answer that question for him.

He found the scrap of paper he'd scribbled on when he spoken to El on the phone what felt like days ago and dialled the phone number for the mysterious Mozzie.

There was a pause when the phone was answered. "Hello?" Mozzie answered hesitantly.

"Mozzie, it's Peter," he said before the other man could hang up the phone.

"Oh, Suit, what philanthropically unsound case can I assist you with today?" Mozzie asked in his usual manner.

Not in the mood for it, Peter snapped back. "Cut the crap, Mozzie, this is about Neal."

That got the older conman's attention. "What's happened?"

Having been in the trade since the tender age of twelve, Mozzie knew what was at stake on any job and wondered what his young companion had gotten himself into and why he was trying to pull one under the Suit's nose.

"Neal's gone," Peter stated matter-of-factly.

"Gone? How can he be gone?" Mozzie was practically shouting into the phone and speaking over Peter so that he couldn't explain. "He has that tracking anklet you and the system forces him to wear, why can't you just use your computer to find him, or have you forgotten your password because I won't help you crack it so you can track him down like a lost puppy."

"Shut up, Mozzie, and listen for a second," Peter yelled over the top of him. "Neal was off anklet when he disappeared-"

"Good on him," Mozzie interrupted.

"No, no good on him," frustration edged into Peter's voice. "I think he's in trouble and I need you to tell me what's in Phoenix."

There was silence on the other end of the line before Mozzie spoke again. "Did you say Phoenix?"

"I did," Peter said carefully, hopeful that the man he knew so little about was going to tell him what he wanted to know and not just hang up.

Mozzie let out a sigh after another long pause. "What's in Phoenix?" he repeated the question before answering it. "Only the most famous painting in the world."

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><p>Thanks again for all the reviews guys! If I ever need a inspiration I just come and read the wonderful reviews you've left me! Thanks!<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter 6**_

It had taken most the money he'd had stashed away in New York and longer than he maybe would have wanted but Neal Caffrey was finally in Phoenix. He'd not heard his name pop on any news stations and his picture wasn't gracing the cover of newspapers just yet but he was still cautious as he moved around the streets. A new name and passport was what he needed but those would have to wait until he wasn't so strapped for cash.

The warehouse off the I-17 was where Neal made the first of what would be a number of stops to similar warehouses around the country and in Europe that held paintings, cash and other valuables he'd stolen or bought in the past. He'd not seen these treasures since he'd fled the area when Peter had been on his trail a year before he'd been arrested. He felt like a kid on Christmas day.

The first paintings he laid his white gloved hands on what was probably the most famous painting in the entire world. The ebony hair, knowing smile and eyes that followed you wherever you went belonged to da Vinci's Mona Lisa. Thousands of people every day from all over the world went to visit what they thought was the real Mona Lisa painting at the Louvre Museum in Paris but if were to use a black light over her left eye they would see a small NC inscribed there. Apparently no one had checked the authenticity in the last six years because no one was looking for the real painting.

Neal had the perfect fence in mind when it would come to an expedited and quiet sale of the painting and dialled a number he easily knew into the Blackberry before leaving a voicemail with a time and place to meet. There was someone he had to meet about an identity before he attended the meeting with his fence but prior to leaving the warehouse he took one last glance around the place that held so many lost treasures and lined his pockets with enough money to see him through the next few days. If Peter hadn't caught up with him by then.

**white*collar**white*collar**white*collar**white*collar**white*collar**white*collar**white*collar**white*collar**white*collar**

The park bench in Encanto Park was no different to the one the mysterious, unnamed Russian identity farmer had sat on in Central Park when Neal and Mozzie had approached him to get new names – Victor and Bob, respectively - should they ever have needed them. Neal had fled New York without his forged passport in hand and it would only be a matter of time before Peter flagged his name.

The Russian regarded Neal carefully. "I give you new name not so long ago," he said in his heavy accent. "What happen, Victor? That identity was fool proof."

Neal shrugged. "My circumstances have changed and Victor was no longer able to do what I needed him to."

The Russian nodded solemnly before getting to his feet and handing over a passport with Neal's new identity on it. "Such things happen. I hope Matthew Bomer will be of more service to you."

Neal smiled at his new name. "I think I could be a Matt." It was certainly better than Victor.

Once again the unnamed Russian kissed Neal on each cheek. "I do not like Matt as much as Victor, he is like Bob."

Laughing to himself, Neal moved through the park to where his meeting was going to be with his fence. He walked near the water with Enchanted Island to his right until he was mostly shielded from prying eyes by the palm trees and other shrubbery. He was silent as he watched children running around, crazed on sugar, on the Island not that far away. It reminded him of his own childhood, the time before he'd learned his father was a dirty cop.

Neal didn't have to wait long before he heard the light footsteps approaching. He wasn't worried that it might be the FBI coming in to take him down because he only knew one person who could move so lightly on her feet.

"What are we doing here, Neal?" Alex Hunter's called to him from several metres away making him turn away from the waters edge. She was cautious because it wouldn't be the first time the FBI had used him to get to her and he was also on the other side of the country than he should have been.

"It's a nice day, I thought we could meet in the park," he replied with his trademark smile.

Alex slowly closed the gap between them. "I meant what are we doing here in Phoenix, and I think you knew that. Where are your FBI buddies?"

Instead of answering, Neal lifted his left pant leg to show the anklet was absent.

This peaked Alex's interest but she remained wary, not putting it past the FBI to take Neal on a little excursion to try and trap her. "What is this, Neal?"

"I'm no longer on their leash, Alex."

"You ran?"

Neal could hear the curiosity in her voice but merely nodded, not wanting to explain any further. It wasn't something she needed to know.

"So what about Agent Pant Suit watching us from the other side of the island?" Alex nodded across the way from them.

Neal had noticed Diana following him when he'd first entered the park. She stuck out like a sore thumb against the mothers with their young children even though she'd dressed casually and had attempted to remain inconspicuous. She was still a federal agent and no matter what she tried it was like she was carrying a sign advertising that she was.

"She's not a problem," he ignored Alex's raised eyebrows. "She's on her own. Peter will have her on a fact finding mission."

Alex turned to look at Diana who in turn pretended to be watching the nonexistent fish in the lake. "How can you be so sure?"

"I know Peter."

Alex accepted the answer and finally got down to business. "So where's my painting?" The eagerness in her voice was palpable.

Neal handed her a small piece of paper with two addresses on it. One for a locker at a nearby bus station and the other the address of the warehouse he'd just come from.

"This doesn't look like the Mona Lisa," Alex said bluntly.

"The first address will get you the painting; the second one will lead you to my stash. Take whatever you want but leave enough that someone won't notice anything really missing."

Alex faltered slightly, surprised by being given a free shopping spree at one of Neal Caffrey's supposedly many warehouses filled with items he'd stolen or forged over the height of his career. "What's going on, Neal?"

He shook his head. "It's not important."

She wanted to know but knew not to push her luck. Alex then saw Neal grin and knew he'd gotten one of his infamously devious ideas.

"Want to help me pull one over the FBI?"

Alex grinned wildly in reply.

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><p>Thanks again for the reviews! Chapter 7 will be up tomorrow!<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

We're past the half way mark now! Not long left before all is revealed! I guess I should write it :) lol. Sorry this chapter so short! The next one will be longer, I promise!_**  
><strong>_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 7<strong>_

Diana had found it easy to spot Neal Caffrey in his trademark suit and fedora hat as he spoke to the older Russian man who was suspected of supplying much of the country's nefarious community with new identities. She watched on as the Russian had handed Neal a passport before the pair had parted ways. Her instincts had told her that she should have gone after the Russian and threatened him with deportation if he didn't supply her with the name Caffrey would soon be going by but she had her orders from Peter and followed the con man as he made his way toward the lake surrounding Enchanted Island.

Keeping her distance, she moved around to the far side of the Island to keep an eye on and watched as known thief and fence Alex Hunter approached slowly and kept her distance for a few moments before joining Caffrey's side. She was out in the open but tried to remain unnoticed as the pair spoke briefly before they took off together out of her sight range.

Running back the way she'd originally come, she lost sight of Caffrey and Hunter for only a few minutes before she spotted Caffrey's hat bobbing past in the crowd. He seemed unaware of her presence and made the snap decision to make the arrest and get him back to New York before he disappeared for good.

Diana withdrew her firearm from the holster in the small of her back and squared it on Caffrey's fleeing back. "Stop, Neal, FBI," she shouted at him.

There was slight panic at the sight of a gun in a children's park but calm was restored when she produced her badge. She'd half expected Neal to make a run for it in the small window he'd been granted but he'd stopped and raised his hands.

"Don't move, Neal," she said as she edged toward him, not lowering her weapon. She wasn't going to give him the chance to get away again.

Neal remained silent and unmoving, his head bowed; there was no way he could escape now.

Grabbing his arm, Diana spun him around and could barely contain her surprise when Alex Hunter grinned back at her. Using her free hand, Alex removed Neal's hat and allowed her long brain hair to fall free, the wide grin never faltering.

"Agent Berrigan," Alex said sweetly. "It's so nice to see you."

Not giving her the satisfaction of a response, Diana arrested her instead. "Alexandra Hunter, you're under arrest for aiding the escape of a fugitive."

Metres away, Neal watched on, now dressed in clothes that would have anyone mistaking him for a young father, with a small smile on his face as Diana pulled Alex through the spectator crowd. With the FBI off his back, once more he was free to head to Boston.

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><p>Thanks for reading and the reviews!<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8**_

Back in New York, Alex Hunter sat waiting in the FBI interrogation room. She'd been there some hours now but had remained silent, not asking for a lawyer or kicking up a fuss that she'd been kept waiting. This wasn't about her anyway, the White Collar division just wanted their pet conman back and they thought she was their ticket to finding him.

She watched as Diana entered the room and sat down in the chair opposite hers. Neither woman spoke, instead staring each other down waiting for one of them to crack. When Alex crossed her arms, Diana did the same and then also mirrored Alex's exasperated sigh.

"I want to talk to Peter Burke," Alex finally said, tired of the stalemate.

Diana shuffled papers in front of her on the table. "You have to speak with me first."

Alex snapped back. "This isn't about me, you just want Neal back!"

"Neal Caffrey is currently a fugitive and with your little clothes switch you helped him escape custody," Diana replied calmly.

"I want to talk to Peter Burke!" Alex ignored Diana and opted for being as big a pain as possible.

"Calm down, Ms. Hunter," Peter said coolly as he entered the interrogation room. "I'm here. What do you possible have to tell me that you couldn't tell Agent Berrigan?"

Alex shrugged. "You want Neal back and I want a deal," she said simply.

Peter regarded Alex carefully. "What makes you think that I don't want to just throw Neal back in jail?"

Another shrug. "Neal isn't just a con man to you anymore, Agent Burke, he's your friend and I know you'd rather help him than put him back in jail."

It was Peter's turn to shuffle papers on the table. "Tell me what you know and I'll see what I can do for you, Alex," he said softly.

"Neal contacted me around noon yesterday because he needed a fence for a painting-"

"What painting?" Diana cut in but was silent again off looks from Alex and Peter.

"I don't know what painting," Alex lied, something that came naturally to her. "He didn't tell me, I only got the impression that he needed the money."

"Do you know why he needed the money?" Peter asked.

Alex scratched her cheek. "He wouldn't tell me even though I asked. He said it wasn't important but then why was he off anklet and in Phoenix?"

"Why was he in Phoenix?" Peter returned the question to her.

"You probably already know he has a stash there," she said bluntly but then paused.

Peter picked up on it immediately. "What, Alex? What do you know?"

"He gave me the address of the warehouse where he stashes the stuff he's collected over the years and told me that I could take anything I wanted but to leave enough there to make it look as though none of it had been taken. It gave me the impression that he was expecting someone other than him to go there and take it all."

"Do you know who?" Peter pressed.

Alex could only shake her head.

"Confirms that someone could be after Caffrey, boss," Diana said quietly.

Peter nodded but didn't respond. Neal had likely pissed off a lot of people in the past and any one of them could be out to take what they thought was theirs.

"Do you know where he was going next, Alex? Did he mention anything?" he returned his attention back to the young thief and fence.

"No, he just asked me to help him get away from Agent Berrigan; that was it."

Peter tried not to look disappointed. From what he'd learnt so far Neal was playing it close to the vest and not having to tell anyone anything that he didn't have to.

Standing, Peter straightened his papers and turned back to Alex one last time. "Thank you, Ms. Hunter, you've been very helpful. You're free to go."

Diana was disgruntled about the young thief and fence being released without charge but remained silent and left the room with her boss following behind her.

"Peter!" Alex called him back once Diana was out of the room. "Matthew Bomer," she said simply.

Peter quirked an eyebrow in response; wondering why the name should mean anything to him.

"When Neal and I were swapping clothes I caught a look at that new passport of his and the name on it was Matthew Bomer."

He wanted to kiss her but remained composed and thanked her once again. Alex may not have known where Neal was headed but at least she'd provided a lead to what name he'd be travelling under.

Returning to the conference room, Peter found Jones and his small team seated at the table behind their computers going over Neal's cell phone calls, tracking data and every other aspect of the conman's life.

"Put an alert out on the name Matthew Bomer at all airports," Peter said as he walked in. "Neal has a new passport and we have every reason to believe that he'll use it."

Once the new alert was inputted a silence settled over the conference room while the agents present waited for an alert to ping on the computer. Naturally, that didn't happen because this was real life and not a television show.

"What do we have on Neal's movements from the last few days?" Peter asked eventually.

It was Jones that answered. "Caffrey received a number of phone calls from a pre-paid cell phone lasting only a few minutes each call. As yet we've not been able to determine who or where these calls are coming from."

Peter clapped Jones on the back. "Good work, see if you can find out who or at least where those calls were coming from." He wanted to know who, if anyone, had pressured Neal into running like he did.

"I have more," Jones gave a little smile, pleased with what he and his team had discovered in only a short amount of time. "We went over his tracking data and after we eliminated the times he was with you, June's place and the places he frequented like coffee shops or restaurants we found that on more than one occasion he went right to the edge of his two mile radius and waited there for half an hour to an hour before heading back to June's."

"What was he doing out there?" Peter asked.

"Just waiting," Jones shook his head slightly. "But it could be that Caffrey got his little friend to go that little extra distance that he couldn't."

Peter couldn't help smiling. "Good work everyone. I'll call Mozzie and find out just what Neal was doing at the edge of his radius."

Before Peter could place the call to Mozzie, the alert they had been waiting for pinged on Jones' computer. Matthew Bomer, aka Neal Caffrey, had just bought himself a plane ticket. All the agents in the room crowded around the computer.

It was Peter who spoke first. "Let's go to Boston."

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><p>Thanks for the reviews! They give me a reason to write!<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

In answer to a question from Stutteringtj as to why Alex gave up Neal's new identity to Peter so easily in Chapter 8 is because I think Alex cares about Neal and only wants the best for him and while she doesn't know what he's gotten himself mixed up in she wants to help him and does it in the only way she really can by telling Peter the information he needs.  
>Once again, thanks for the great reviews everyone! We're on the home stretch now!<em><strong><br>**_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 9<strong>_

Unlike when he'd flown to Phoenix in the back of a few light planes, Neal found flying business class to Boston a vast improvement. He actually got his own seat this time around.

"Would you like another drink, Mr. Bomer?" a sweet, blonde haired flight hostess asked him, touching his arm lightly, like she'd been doing throughout the trip.

He smiled back broadly. "No, thank you, Cindy," he replied in a Southern accent that sounded natural.

Flight hostess Cindy returned the smile. "You just let me know if you need anything." She gave him a wink before returning to her duties.

Yep, Neal Caffrey or Matt Bomer, whichever name he decided to go by, could definitely get used to this life once again.

Neal was cautious as he moved through the airport, wary of the security personnel and cameras. It had been five hours since he'd boarded the plane and he was almost certain that Peter knew about his new identity. He'd watched on as Alex had picked up and inspected his new passport that she thought he had carelessly left perched on the sink in the tight public bathroom space they'd shared when changing clothes. Neal had wanted her to know his new name so that she could pass it on to Peter and think she was helping him.

What he hadn't counted on was Peter and the rest of his FBI team being at the airport at the time he arrived.

They were busy showing his mug shot to airport employees and excited tourists but had failed to see him standing less than ten metres away. Hiding behind the departures board, Neal considered his options. He could easily slip into the busy crowd of reunited family members and leave the airport without the FBI being any the wiser or he could have a little bit of fun before he left.

Neal liked fun.

There were numerous little stores around the airport designed to cater for the tourists streaming through and Neal found one that kept the FBI in his line of sight. He didn't want them wandering off on him and then cornering him somewhere without an escape route.

Picking up a pair of wrap-around sunglasses and Boston Red Sox cap, he used the courtesy mirrors not only try them on but watch Peter. Everything would hopefully be coming to a head soon and he hoped that despite everything that Peter would once again trust him. Neal then found a postcard that showed Fenway Park and wished that the receiving person they were there.

At the registers a woman roughly Neal's own age smiled at him sweetly. "Is that everything for today?"

"You wouldn't happen to have a pen I could borrow, do you?" he asked in his Southern accent.

She looked him up and down and liking what she saw gave him a teasing smile. "Not if that postcard is for your girlfriend."

Neal laughed at her audacity. "No, it's for a friend."

"In that case…" she handed over the pen with a smile.

While Neal wrote a short note to Peter, the young woman brought up the cost of the sunglasses, cap and postcard.

"Keep the change," he said with a wink as he handed over a twenty dollar note and the pen.

He decided that this Southern charm thing could really work for him.

Before making his approach to Peter, Neal watched the entire team's motions as they worked their way around each other making sure not a single person missed his mug shot. It would be difficult to get to Peter under the hawk-like gaze of Diana but it was a chance he was going to take.

Neal positioned himself directly in front of the exit doors with only the FBI team between him and freedom. He hoped that even if he was made that he would get out the doors before the handcuffs where slapped on. Securing the baseball cap low over his eyes and the sunglasses in place, he made a bee-line straight for Peter.

"Ma'am, have you seen this man?" Neal heard Peter ask a woman with three children in tow.

To Neal's luck she stopped and accosted Peter to ask what "the charming man in this picture could have possibly done that the FBI were after him" and he was able to get close enough to slip the folded postcard into Peter's jacket pocket without having to bump him. But then he had to contest with Jones who was coming off yet another person shaking their head because they'd not seen Neal.

"Sir, can I speak with you a moment?" Jones put up his hand trying to stop Neal in his tracks.

"Why certainly," Neal answered in his Southern accent, it was certainly coming in handy today.

He kept his head down as Jones showed him his own mug shot. He'd never liked that picture. "No, no, I can't say I've seen him," Neal shook his head. "But I hope you catch that scoundrel."

Jones could only nod and thank him before letting him go, none the wiser that he'd just let Neal slip past.

As he neared the exit, Neal removed the sunglasses and hat and handed them to a small boy with a wink; he wouldn't be needed them any more.

"NEAL!" Peter's voice yelled but when Neal turned back to the FBI agent he wasn't looking at the conman instead searching through the crowds trying to find him. Peter had obviously found the postcard and knew he had just missed him.

Turning back to the warm streets of Boston, he jumped in the first cab that stopped in front of him. "Suffolk County, please," he told the driver in his regular accent as he watched the airport door waiting for Peter to emerge.

"Sure thing, Neal," a voice he knew replied.

Surprised at who the driver was, Neal turned slowly back to the front. "Keller…"

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><p>Dun, dun, dun! :D Sorry, I couldn't help myself. Chapter 10 tomorrow! Only three chapters to go!<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter 10**_

It had taken no time at all for Peter's FBI team to be cleared for a mission to Boston to get Neal back. With everything going to plan, they would arrive at the airport three hours before Neal's plane from Phoenix, arrest him before he was able to escape and be back in New York before sundown. No need to even sped the night.

There was as easy quiet in the administration room the FBI had commandeered within the airport, everyone knew their role and there was nothing that could or would go wrong.

Except a plane arriving half an hour early for the first time in the company's history.

Peter and his FBI team made a mad dash to the gate and their hopes lifted when they saw people still filing out.

"Have business class gotten off yet?" Peter panted from the run, posing his question to an airport hostess pointing people toward baggage claim.

"Yes, sir," she replied, her tone annoyingly cheery given the situation. "Business class disembarked from the plane twenty minutes ago."

Peter barely turned away from the hostess before cursing. Neal could be absolutely anywhere in the godforsaken airport or be on his way out the doors that moment.

Turning his attention to Diana he asked her to go back to the administration room and print out copies of Neal's mug shot so that they could ask people leaving if they'd seen him. It was a long shot but it was one they had to take if they didn't want to have to sit through hours of airport security footage looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack called Neal Caffrey.

Some of the junior agents knew the task was futile but they trusted Peter Burke's insight and were showing tired and frustrated travellers a mug shot of a man who you would think was a good choice to bring home to your mother. The answer they always received was a no or a slight shake of the head but Peter's enthusiasm that they'd catch a break gave them the motivation to move on to the next person.

Peter spotted a middle aged woman with three children under ten hanging off of her with a large t-shirt advertising Phoenix, Arizona and approached her hoping she'd been on the same plane as Neal.

"Ma'am, have you seen this man?" he asked, holding the mug shot up at her head height so that she had no option but to stop.

She inspected the mug shot carefully. "No, I can't say I have. What could this charming-looking man have possibly done that the FBI is after him?" she asked, her tone challenging.

"Well, uh," Peter stammered, his attention drawn to a man dressed in grey slacks and a polo shirt, with a Boston Red Sox cap pulled over his sunglasses covered eyes.

"Well, what?" the woman pressed.

Peter had to let the man go but took some solace in the fact that Jones had stopped him. "Ma'am, this man is a known conman convicted of forgery but suspected of a whole lot of other things. We're trying to catch him before he steals something like that pretty little necklace you have on."

The woman's hand flew to her neck before she hurried her children along. Peter hadn't meant to scare her but he wanted another look at that man in the baseball cap only to find that Jones had already moved on from him and he'd disappeared.

Frustrated, Peter put his hands on his hips and felt something poking out of his jacket pocket. Removing it he noticed it was a postcard with the sentiment of wishing he was there and a picture of Fenway Park. Turning it over in his hands, Peter saw the note scrawled on the back in handwriting he knew well.

'Peter, sorry I missed you. Have fun in Boston. I'll be in touch soon. Neal.'

Scrunching the postcard in his hand, Peter searched for a Boston Red Sox cap bobbing along in the crowd knowing that it would most likely be the conman under it.

"NEAL!" he shouted, hoping to see a hat clad figure turn around at the name but while many people turned around none of them were the man he was looking for.

"What is it, boss?" Diana asked at Peter's side, her eyes also scanning the faces in the crowd.

Peter handed her the postcard and jabbed his finger at it. "He was right here," he said, frustration edging into his voice. How could they have missed him again? "He put that in my pocket and I missed him."

"Did anyone see Caffrey?" Diana called to all the other agents.

They all responded the same way the travellers they were asking did, with a no or shake of the head. Neal had managed to slip right past them, leaving a little note in the process, without anyone seeing him.

"Jones," Peter turned to the agent. "You spoke to a man in a Red Sox cap and sunglasses, right?"

"Yeah, he spoke in a Southern accent and said he'd not seen Caffrey so I let him go."

Peter tried to keep his cool so as not to shout at Jones. "I think that was Neal," he sighed.

Jones wasn't as calm as Peter and cursed loudly. "I'm sorry, Peter, I should have asked him to remove his hat."

Peter waved off the apology, it didn't matter now. Neal was probably long gone from the airport by now. "We need to check the airport security footage," he said and wasn't surprised when Jones volunteered to go through it himself.

In only five minutes the agents were back in their borrowed administration room going over the security footage. Jones was going over the most recent footage and watched as a grainy video of himself spoke with the man they hoped was Neal. He rewound the tape slowly, watching the hat clad man approached the FBI team slowly and pause long enough next to Peter to slip the postcard in his jacket pocket.

"I've got Caffrey on the CCTV at one of those gift shops," one of the junior agents practically cheered. Peter and Diana looked over his shoulder as Neal chatted with the woman at the register as he wrote a note and she put through a Red Sox cap and sunglasses.

"It was him," Peter sighed. "Jones, bring up the cameras from the exterior of the airport. I want to see what he left in and see if we can't do a trace on it."

"Sure thing, Peter," Jones replied and in only a few clicks he was watching Neal climb into a cab. "I'll zoom in on the cab number."

Peter watched silently as the grainy picture became slightly pixelated but the poor quality didn't stop him getting the feeling that he knew the driver of the cap.

"Jones, zoom in on the driver," he said slowly, hoping his eyes were deceiving him.

His suspicion was only confirmed as he cursed at how complicated this man hunt had just become. He pointed at the screen. "Diana, could you tell me who our driver is?"

At only a glace she understood Peter's reaction. "Matthew Keller."

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><p>This is just a filler chapter really, to bring to light what Neal wrote on the postcard and so the FBI knew what they were dealing with. Next chapter we find out why Neal ran in the first place! I may post it later today. Leave me lovely reviews and I will :)<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter 11**_

Being strapped to a chair with cable ties and duct tape over the mouth because apparently he talked too much wasn't how Neal had expected his afternoon to go at the warehouse he kept more of his treasures at. But then, he hadn't expected Matthew Keller to be driving the cab he'd jumped into at the airport either.

Neal watched as Keller pocked through hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of stolen or presumed lost art. Art Neal had risked his own neck to steal but would gladly give up if it meant Keller sparing his own and Peter's life.

Keller had contacted Neal a month ago demanding that he hand over everything he'd gained over the years before his arrest or he would kill everyone he cared about, starting with Peter. Things had escalated when he'd escaped FBI custody once again and Mozzie put out a hit on Keller's head, forcing him to make the decision that the FBI needed a new man to go after and Neal became the perfect patsy.

Keller knew that Peter would do anything to get his golden boy conman back would completely forget about hunting him. The only thing he hadn't counted on was Neal going to his stash houses and removing the most expensive pieces before Keller could get there.

"You've got some nice stuff here, Neal," Keller commented as he picked up a Rembrandt self portrait of the artist at a young age.

Neal wouldn't disagree, not that he could have if he'd wanted to with duct tape still covering his mouth.

"Is this the real thing?" he queried. Keller knew Neal's eye for detail and couldn't tell without the proper tools if it was the actual 1629 painting or a 2005 forgery.

Neal just shrugged; Keller would have to find out when he tried to sell it.

Matthew Keller now turned his attention back to Neal, removing the duct tape from his mouth but not before withdrawing a gun. "I thought I told you to leave the country, Neal," he said. "I thought you would have liked a nice change of scenery after being leashed to the FBI for so long."

Neal shrugged; he had no answer for Keller. He thought it a better idea to remain silent than piss Keller off and give him a reason to shoot him.

Keller ostentatiously inspected his gun. "What were you doing in Phoenix?" he asked.

Another shrug. "I've not been there in a while, it's always nice this time of year and I thought I'd visit some old friends."

"Would these old friends include an identity farmer and a fence, Neal?"

Neal shouldn't have been surprised that Keller knew what he'd been up to; Keller seemed to have no bounds when it came to his resources which had been demonstrated when he'd picked Neal up from the airport in a cab.

"I liked the way you ditched that FBI agent, though," Keller continued. "Handing over your clothes so your fence could get arrested in your place while you scurry off here; very clever, Neal."

Not sure where this was going, Neal remained quiet.

"But don't think I didn't realise that FBI agent would lead your fence back to Peter. What does he know, Neal?"

"Nothing, Keller, I swear. I didn't tell him or Alex anything."

Keller laughed. "Could be that I just don't believe you or that you've lied to be in the past but I want you to call Peter so we can have a happy little reunion."

Neal shook his head adamantly. "He doesn't know anything, Keller. There's no reason to call him!" He wanted to spare his friend even if it meant getting shot himself.

"Call him," Keller pressed the gun against the side of Neal's head.

"No."

Keller laughed. "Your bravado surprises me, Neal," he admitted. "I didn't think you had it in you but that won't stop me from putting a bullet in your head then finding Peter and putting one in his."

Neal knew Keller well enough to know he wasn't bluffing. "You have everything you want; you don't need Peter, Keller."

"See, Neal, that's where you're wrong. If I let you live, you'll tell the Feds everything and they'll come after me. If I shoot you and the Feds find your body they'll come after me. So even though I will have all of your riches that doesn't stop the FBI coming after me. I want Peter to personally call off the manhunt, is that so much to ask? All you have to do is call him and I won't put a bullet in your or his head."

He made it sound all so simple but Keller always had another play, Neal just couldn't figure out what it was.

"Call him," Keller shouted and pulled the slide back on his gun just to emphasis his point.  
>Neal had little choice but to give in to Keller's demands like he'd done when he'd fled New York in an attempt to stop him from killing Peter. Moving slowly and with obvious movements so Keller wouldn't find a reason to shoot him, Neal removed the Blackberry and the sim card from his own phone from his jacket pocket and fitted the two together.<p>

"Call Peter, Neal," Keller barked urgently.

Neal just fixed him with a glare but still dialled Peter's familiar cell number and pressed the loud speaker button.

The phone was picked up immediately and Peter spoke first. "You need to turn yourself in, Neal," he said. "Turn yourself in and maybe I can protect you. We're going to catch you, Neal, so just do yourself a favour and tell me where you are."

Neal took a heavy breath. "I'm at a warehouse in Suffolk County, just off the I-93."

"Good man," Peter practically cheered down the phone. "Just stay there and we'll come and get you."

Keller nudged Neal in the side of the head with his gun to get him to face him and mouthed 'alone'.

"Peter!" Neal shouted into the phone before his friend hung up. "You have to come alone, okay? If I see another agent I'm gone."

Peter could hear the desperation in Neal's voice and immediately knew there was more at stake here but he agreed anyway.

"Thank you, Peter," Neal said quietly, knowing he was bringing his friend into a likely death trap.

"I'll be there soon, Neal, just sit tight."

Neal again called Peter back before he hung up. "Tell El you'll be home for dinner."

He quickly ended the call, hopeful that Keller hadn't caught the conatation of what he'd said but he was all smiles.

He clapped Neal on the back with force. "See, Caffrey, that wasn't hard now, was it?"

He laughed as he walked away, leaving Neal cable tied to the chair and hoping that Peter had understood that he didn't want to run any more and wanted return to New York.

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><p>Final chapter tomorrow!<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

Here it is! The FINAL chapter! Thanks everyone for the amazing reviews and for favouriting and whatnot, means a hell of a lot! Please review and tell me what you think!_**  
><strong>_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 12<strong>_

Peter was cautious as he entered the desolate parking lot of the warehouse Neal was reportedly inside. He wasn't sure if Neal was alone but knew that it was likely that Keller would be around here somewhere, most probably armed.

Diana and a team were further down the street waiting on Peter's word to go in and arrest Keller, and Neal if the need arose on the off chance they were working together and had set Peter up. Peter knew how much Neal despised Keller but knew he might be desperate to escape going back to jail and would try anything to stay out.

The front door of the warehouse was ajar as Peter approached and he withdrew his firearm, letting it lead the way as he cautiously entered the darkened building.

"Neal?" he hissed, keeping his voice low in the hope it would only be Neal who answered and not Keller.

When no response came he moved further into the warehouse, hoping to find the conman but weapon ready if it was Keller he found. Coming around a large stack of wooden crates, Peter spotted the back of a man's head with a mop of brown hair seated in a metal chair; instinct told Peter that it had to be Neal in the chair. From his position Peter couldn't discern if Neal was strapped down or there voluntarily but remained where he was, opting to call out to the conman instead.

Neal turned as far as he could at the sound of his name and tried to shout against the duct tape over his mouth, to warn Peter that it was a trap but the words were nothing more than muffled sounds and Peter approached completely unaware of what was waiting for him.

Kneeling down in front of his CI, Peter had to choke back the curse he wanted to shout at Keller. Now wasn't the time for profanities. One look at the explosive device strapped to Neal was enough for Peter to know such a thing was out of his league.

"How're you doing, Neal?" Peter asked casually as he carefully removed the duct tape from the conman's mouth.

"I'm good," Neal lied; it was the first lie he'd ever told the FBI agent a lie. Sure, he'd let Peter believe things that weren't completely true but never an outright lie.

Peter sensed the lie but just squeezed Neal's shoulder. "We'll get you out of here, buddy."

While Neal had effectively gotten himself into this mess, Peter knew it wasn't the time to ask why or what Neal was doing here. There would be plenty of time to talk about that later once they got out of this alive. That was the plan, anyway.

Peter was so distracted with the bomb, his weapon discarded at his side, that he hadn't noticed Neal fall silent. Usually the conman had an opinion on just about everything and when he looked up to ask what the matter was he noticed Keller from the corner of his eye standing only a few feet away, gun in hand and aimed at Neal's head. Turning to face him, Peter rose to his feet slowly and raised his hands as Keller changed his target.

"Agent Burke, so nice to see you," Keller spoke as if they were having a chance meeting on the street or in a park.

"What do you want, Keller?" Peter got straight to the point. He wasn't going to play games with Keller like he and Neal had been forced to do in the past.

"Well, for starters, you can kick over that gun of yours. We wouldn't want anyone getting accidentally shot, would we?"

Peter begrudgingly complied and used his foot to slide the gun across the ground but having it stop a few feet short. "What do you want?" Peter repeated his earlier question.

Keller considered Peter a moment before answering. "What every man wants, Agent Burke. Freedom; and you're my ticket to it."

"You're not getting out of here alive, Keller," Peter warned him but he wasn't so sure about those words any more, he hadn't counted on Neal being strapped to a bomb.

Keller brazenly looked around. "I don't see anyone else here but you, me and the thorn in both our sides."

Neal glared at Keller but remained silent; he had more pressing things to concern himself with than snide comments.

"I have the building surrounded," Peter played the only card he had that didn't involve rushing Keller and either getting himself or Neal shot.

Keller laughed. "Nice try, Agent Burke, but I know they're down the street listening in on our little conversation. You weren't as covert on your approach as you thought. But maybe we should remind them that if they try anything I'll blow the bomb Neal's minding for me."

Neal finally spoke up. "You wouldn't kill yourself, Keller," he snapped, angry about being setup, forced to defy Peter and then strapped to a bomb. "You love yourself too much."

Keller knew the words were true but didn't comment on them instead opting to answer Peter's original question once more. "I want the art and your word, Agent Burke, that I leave here and no one follows me."

"What art?" Peter asked, momentarily confused.

This amused Keller greatly and it showed in the huge smirk on his face. "Caffrey never told you?" he asked rhetorically. "I thought the two of you didn't keep secrets from one another."

Keeping his gun levelled on Peter, Keller moved backwards and stopped next to one of the wooden crates. Pushing the lid off he delved his hand in and removed the first painting he touched. The Degas painting titled "Entrance of the Masked Dancers" was magnificent with its portrayal of young dancers in colourful costumes a stark contrast to the stiff forms and evening dress he usually painted.

Peter turned a questioning look to Neal but didn't voice it and Neal didn't give an answer. It would have to wait.

"Do we have a deal, Agent Burke?" Keller asked, trying to expedite the matter.

Peter turned back to Neal knowing that neither of them would make it out alive if he made the deal or not. What he hadn't counted on was the conman subtly shaking his head.

"No deal," Peter said, his attention back on Keller.

Keller looked disappointed. "I was really hoping you would have said yes," he said as he levelled the gun on Peter's head.

"If you shoot me or Neal my team will swarm in here and put a bullet in you," Peter spoke quickly, hoping to buy time for whatever plan Neal had in mind. "They wouldn't even consider trying to arrest you."

"It's a chance I'm willing to make," Keller said as he set the art down.

Peter had to do a double take as he saw Neal with the bomb still strapped to his body jump up from the chair he'd been strapped into with cable ties, something Peter was sure were unpickable, and dive at Keller.

Keller was barely able to react before Neal crash tackled him to the ground, sending his gun skittering across the floor. Neal had never been in a fist fight before, always getting his way out of them before they started by using words, but he didn't hold back as he threw punches aimed at Keller's head and completely disregarded the live bomb still on him.

Peter dove for his gun and called for backup and a bomb unit while the two men rolled around on the floor throwing punches. Keller was getting the upper hand on Neal but Peter ended it by pressing his weapon against Keller's head.

"Go ahead," Peter said. "Hit him again."

Instead Keller raised his hands but Neal, wiping bloody lip on the back of his hand, gave Peter an incredulous look from the floor.

"'Hit him again'? Really?"

Peter shrugged, smiling slightly. "I couldn't say 'make my day', could I? Too much of a cliché."

The pair laughed but it was short lived as the FBI agents stormed in and Keller was placed in handcuffs. The unaired question was if Neal would also be leaving in handcuffs.

The answer had to wait until the bomb squad arrived to remove the device; until then Neal was handled with kid gloves and kept at a safe distance from everyone else. It was a miracle that it hadn't detonated while he fought with Keller but none of them were counting their blessings just yet, they still had to get it off.

The bomb squad arrived in their specialised, blast-resistant suits and against their advice Peter stood by and gave Neal support. It was the least he could do after saving both their lives with his little act of heroism.

As the bomb squad removed the device they discovered it was little more than some pipes and wires and an actual detonator attached to make it look good. It turned out that Keller did love himself and wouldn't blow himself up just because he didn't get his own way.

With Neal free from the suspected bomb, Peter dragged him aside instead of opting to put cuffs on him and take him back to New York before questioning him.

Peter decided to start with the easiest question. "How did you get out of the cable ties?" he was genuinely intrigued how the conman had managed to get out of them without cutting them.

Neal raised a finger before walking back to the chair he'd been strapped in and picking up something Peter couldn't see from behind it. He held the small, thin metal object between his fingers for Peter to see before explaining. "You slide it in on the roller-lock side and the metal blocks the little teeth to let it slide the other way, no need to cut them."

Peter just nodded. "Why did you run, Neal?"

Neal sighed and lowered himself onto the concrete; he wasn't at all surprised when Peter joined him. "Keller threatened to shoot us both if I didn't leave the country," Neal gave the short version.

"You didn't leave the country," Peter reminded him, hoping to get a further explanation from the conman.

"Keller wanted the art I'd…" Neal paused knowing he could incriminate himself.

Peter groaned. "Just tell me and I'll pretend I didn't hear it."

"Promise?" Neal sounded like a child but then he didn't want to go back to jail for art crimes.

"Yes, I promise, Neal, please just tell me." Peter was considering arresting him just for the aggravation and headache he was causing.

"Keller wanted the art I'd… acquired before you arrested me and, just personally, I didn't want him to have it so I tried to beat him to it and remove the most valuable pieces."

"You know you're not going to be able to keep the art, right?" Peter reminded him.

"I know," Neal sighed, not bothering to mask his disappointment.

A pause settled over the pair for a few minutes before Peter broke it with another question. "Why didn't you just come to me? I could have helped you."

Neal ran a hand through his messy hair. "I know I should have but… I didn't want to risk Keller possibly hurting you, Peter."

Peter liked the sentiment and squeezed Neal's shoulder to show him that it was appreciated.

"What happens now?" Neal asked nervously, knowing that if Peter was going to put him in handcuffs it would be soon.

Peter remained quiet for a few moments. "You know you're going to get more time for running, don't you?"

Neal nodded sadly. "Yeah, I know."

Peter scratched his chin. "But I suppose I could put in a good word for you considering you assisted in the capture of a murderer and risked your own life for a Federal agent and get your deal back."

Neal could barely contain his smile. "Really?"

Peter returned the smile and offered Neal his old anklet back. "Yeah, it would be pretty quiet around the office without you there."

"Thanks, Peter," Neal said quietly, taking the anklet and securing it around his left ankle.

The FBI agent just shrugged and got to feet before helping the conman to his own. There were days when Neal drove Peter absolutely insane but when it came down to it he trusted the younger man and didn't want to see him behind bars again. They were friends after all.

**THE END**


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